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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28299831">A Santa-Mental Time (Geonhak Sleighs the Day)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/seohoverse/pseuds/seohoverse'>seohoverse</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>ONEUS (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Ah married life... I wouldn't know, Christmas, Fluff, M/M, Married Life, Parents! Seodo, Yeah they have a son</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-11 01:14:23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>10,475</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28299831</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/seohoverse/pseuds/seohoverse</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Every time Seoho tries to break the news that Santa isn't real to their son, Geonhak holds him back.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kim Geonhak | Leedo/Lee Seoho</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>49</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A Santa-Mental Time (Geonhak Sleighs the Day)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>my guilty confession: I don't celebrate Christmas so I have no idea how it works. also, can we pretend seoho knows how to cook proper meals that aren't extremely questionable? okay, cool. </p><p>dedicated to @seohoflips on twt cuz it was his idea and I just brought it to life :D and also my friend came up with the pun title for me because I'm uncreative.</p><p>This is my Christmas present to all of you to distract you from the fact that I disappeared for a couple of months, but I don't know how I feel about it if I'm being honest. Also, I rushed to finish this so it could be done for Christmas, and I apologize that I strayed so far away from the original plot and added more to it because that's just what I do. </p><p>So enjoy domestic seodo and I apologize once again for this mess :"D</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The playful screams of joyous children fill Seoho’s ears the moment he parks his car in front of the kindergarten. He sees that they’ve already taken to decorating the exterior of the building with Christmas decorations. There is a large tree outside the kindergarten door that is decorated sloppily with ornaments of red, green, iridescent yellow and blue—most likely done by the students. He recalls Sungchan gushing about how they were going to decorate their tree in class that day, for which he got scolded by Seoho for talking with food in his mouth. </p><p>Seoho finds it cute.</p><p>Though the screams only have him pinching his temples. On any other day, the ecstatic chatter of children who are all anticipating Christmas’ arrival would fill Seoho with warmth and excitement that he’s long stopped feeling for this time of the year. But today isn’t like any other day, and he’s had a raging headache even before he left for work, even before he dropped Geonhak and their son off. Of course, Geonhak knows nothing about this, or else his concerned self would force Seoho to take medication and stay home all day, which is the last thing Seoho desires. </p><p>However, Geonhak is looking over at him with piercing worry from where he’s seated in the passenger seat, and Seoho doesn’t have to turn his head to the side to feel his gaze. Geonhak has a knack for worrying constantly, even after being reassured that there’s nothing to be concerned about. He often says it’s more or less because Seoho continuously tries—and fails—to hide when something’s wrong, even around Geonhak who’s known him for <em> years</em>.</p><p>Seoho feels a gentle hand rest on his thigh, rubbing it comfortingly. “Want me to go in and get him?”</p><p>“No, no, I’ll do it,” Seoho says. He squeezes the hand on his thigh before flashing Geonhak a somewhat reassuring smile and carefully slides it off.</p><p>He’s about to step out—has the door unlocked and open ajar—when Geonhak grabs his hand with a muttered, “Hey.” When Seoho turns his head to the side with a questioning hum, Geonhak cups his cheek with the hand that isn’t holding onto his and leans forward to plant a kiss on his forehead. It’s not as if it’ll stop Seoho’s headache, but it does bring a smile to his face, especially when Geonhak then plants another kiss on his cheek. His lips linger there for a few seconds before he pulls back and squeezes his hand wordlessly, watching as Seoho slips out of the car. </p><p>The chatter grows louder now, and Seoho feels his temples throb. The chilling wind is unforgiving as it nips at his face, and Seoho tries huddling into his scarf. </p><p>Craning his neck, he begins searching for their son, attempting to avoid the gaze of the other parents who have arrived to pick up their children. It isn’t that he despises the conversations they always try to strike up with him, but right now, he’d much rather find his son and leave. </p><p>To his luck, Sungchan spots him first, and his whole face lights up, cheeks bunched up as he skips over to where his dad is waiting, brown curls bouncing. His aura is normally blindingly bright, but his smile is wider today—a smile that Seoho is quite familiar with.</p><p>He has a black sheet of paper in his hand, and when Seoho crouches down to Sungchan’s level, he sees that it’s new artwork that they probably did during the day. But he doesn’t bring it up, knowing how much Sungchan likes to be the one to mention it. </p><p>And as usual, Sungchan is the one to bring it up, and he proudly holds his artwork in front of Seoho’s face, grinning. “Look what we made today, dad! We painted snowmen with Ms. Park.” There are splotches of white paint on the paper, and the cut-out hat that Sungchan glued onto the snowman is slightly crooked.</p><p>But Seoho finds it adorable, just like all of his son’s other artworks that have piled up in his and Geonhak’s bedroom, so he smiles widely, pinching Sungchan’s cheek in a way that has him whining.  “It’s lovely, angel, you did amazing.” Knowing Ms. Park, she has probably already praised Sungchan’s art skills, but he still giggles upon getting a compliment from his dad. He’s always been polite, never the type of kid to boast, but it’s no secret that he thrives off compliments—Geonhak has gotten him used to them. “Maybe you’ll be an artist when you grow up.”</p><p>“Maybe I will be,” Sungchan exclaims, and Seoho laughs. He already feels his throbbing headache dissipate in the slightest, and the slight burden he’s been carrying on his shoulders from work for days lightens. </p><p>He frowns, though, when he sees that the front of Sungchan’s jacket is unzipped. “Why didn’t you zip up your jacket, young man? You’ll catch a cold like this.” Sungchan pouts when Seoho pulls him closer to fiddle with his zipper.</p><p>“We were playing around in the snow on the playground, and then we got hot,” Sungchan explains. There are white flakes of snow in his hair that have already melted, and Seoho’s frown deepens as he reaches up to pull the clumps of ice out of his strands. He’s going to have to run Sungchan a warm bath once they get home to prevent him from catching another bad cold like he had the year prior.</p><p>He would continue scolding Sungchan, but he has a cheerful smile, clearly still admiring his artwork, so Seoho supposes the scolding can wait for another day. Instead, he takes Sungchan’s small hands in his—grimacing at how ice-cold they are, and he sighs as he stops himself from nagging Sungchan for not wearing his gloves <em> again</em>—and leads them over to the car. </p><p>When Sungchan hops giddily into the backseat, Geonhak looks up from his phone and tucks it into his pocket. “Hi, munchkin. How was school?”</p><p>“Why don’t you show your daddy what you made in class today?” Seoho says as he pulls on his seatbelt and starts the car.</p><p>Reminded of his artwork, Sungchan’s eyes light up, twinkling as he holds up his painting. “Daddy, look! We painted snowmen today!” He all but shoves the paper in Geonhak’s face, and Geonhak laughs as he takes it into his hands. “We also decorated the Christmas tree outside with Ms. Park, and then I made a snowman with Jinho on the playground, and then…” </p><p>Usually, once Sungchan starts talking, he doesn’t stop, his airy and bubbly personality causing him to ramble on and on, bouncing from one topic to the other. Today is no different. The speed at which he bounces from one topic to another is quick enough to have one’s head spinning, but Seoho doesn’t mind it, and it doesn’t distract him as much as it used to. But despite his inability to tune in on everything Sungchan’s describing, Geonhak is all-ears, whirled around in his seat as he listens to the story of Sungchan’s whole day. </p><p>Sungchan is still talking when Seoho lets his mind wander a little from the road—enough to pick up on the rest of his story. “And then, while I waited for dad, I was playing in the snow with Jinho, and—”</p><p>“And you didn’t put on your gloves like I told you to,” Seoho can’t stop himself from adding, and Sungchan pouts.</p><p>“Sorry, dad,” Sungchan mumbles, fidgeting with his fingers.</p><p>Geonhak delivers a slap to Seoho’s thigh, and Seoho yelps. “What was that for?”</p><p>“Stop berating him all the time, hyung,” Geonhak grumbles. “He won’t get sick if he doesn’t put on his gloves for once. Let it slide.”</p><p>Whereas Seoho has always been more strict, Geonhak has always let Sungchan get away with little things, having too much of a soft heart to chastise their son as much as Seoho does. But whenever Seoho calls him out for it, he shrugs and pretends he didn't hear. </p><p>Sometimes, Seoho feels more like he’s raising two sons rather than one. </p><p>But as big as Geonhak’s soft spot for their son is, Seoho has an equally big soft spot for them both. Maybe he can scold their son when they’re alone, but the moment Geonhak and Sungchan team up against him, his defensive barriers come crashing down. </p><p>Seoho doesn’t say anything else, simply sighing and averting his eyes back to the road, and Geonhak takes that as the sign that Seoho has let it slide (albeit for now). </p><p>It’s five minutes later when Sungchan finally notices that they’re not driving in the direction of their house, and he frowns before peering out the window. “Where are we going?”</p><p>Geonhak feigns ignorance and shrugs. “I don’t know, why don’t you ask your dad?”</p><p>“Well,” Seoho starts, “we’re going to go pick up the Christmas tree we ordered, but before we do that, don’t you think we need to pick our decorations? And who better to pick our decorations for us than our artistic little boy?” </p><p>At that, Sungchan’s eyes light up, and he squeals. Apart from Christmas itself, Sungchan has always loved decorating their trees every year ever since they first adopted him four years ago. He’s even gone as far as grumbling when he thought they didn’t decorate properly, so Geonhak and Seoho have both learned to decorate their trees to Sungchan’s taste, even if it is a little tacky. </p><p>The mall is bustling with people who have all come with the same purpose as them when they arrive, and it doesn’t do anything to help Seoho’s headache. But the twinkle in Sungchan’s eyes return, and he can’t find it in him to complain—not when his son is already bouncing on his toes, prepared to blast through every store he sets his gaze on.</p><p>“Santa likes our decorations,” Geonhak says. “So why don’t you go pick out whatever you like so we can decorate our tree, yeah?” Sungchan takes that as the green light to run into the first store he sees—one whose Christmas tree is already lit up outside its entrance and is filled to the brim with lights and <em> colour</em>. </p><p>He’s gazing upon a reindeer plushie when Geonhak and Seoho lazily stroll after him, having temporarily forgotten that he was supposed to be on the hunt for decorations. “Daddy, what do you think Santa will buy me this year?”</p><p>Seoho cocks an eyebrow, mouth parting and closing with the want to say something, but Geonhak is reaching between them to squeeze his hand—whether endearingly or warningly, Seoho doesn’t know. So, Seoho doesn’t say anything and lets Geonhak talk. “Shh, don’t guess. I’m sure Santa has something huge prepared for our good little boy. Don’t you think, hyung?”</p><p>The look on Seoho’s face still says that he has something he wishes to say, but he feels the grip Geonhak has on his hand tighten. “Of course. Only the best for our boy.”</p><p>Apparently, it’s the right thing to say because Sungchan is clapping his hands delightfully, mumbling to himself about how excited he is before skipping off to finally choose ornaments. </p><p>Once Sungchan is out of earshot, Seoho sighs. “At some point, we’re really going to have to tell him, you know.”</p><p>Geonhak takes his eyes off the reindeer plushie Sungchan had previously been eyeing. “Let him have his fun, baby, the time to tell him everything will come. He’s still young.” His stern tone contrasts with the way he’s gently running his thumb over the back of Seoho’s hand, though, and Seoho has half a mind to lean into his side, if only with the excuse that his head still hurts.</p><p>So he does—leans against Geonhak’s side and rests his head on his shoulder. Geonhak lets go of his hand and instead slides his hand around his waist, rubbing his side. “Are you feeling okay?”</p><p>“Head hurts,” Seoho admits quietly. He waits for Geonhak’s usual berating—his complaints on how Seoho should’ve stayed home, how he needs to rest more, how he’s stressing himself out too much. But Geonhak doesn’t say anything and simply sighs before planting a kiss on the crown of Seoho’s head.</p><p>And really, it’s all he needs at the moment.</p><p>There are frantic footsteps, and then Sungchan is before them again, holding up two sets of ornaments—one full of gleaming gold and silver ornaments, and the other with red and green. “Let’s get these. I like them.”</p><p>“I thought you didn’t like silver ornaments, baby,” Seoho laughs. “You always complained that they looked too plain.”</p><p>Sungchan purses his lips as his past words are repeated to him, and he shrugs. “Well, now I want them. They look pretty. Can we get these, pleaseeee?”</p><p>“Of course,” Geonhak agrees. “But is that all you’re getting?”</p><p>Though Sungchan is only half-listening, and his eyes are already wandering curiously to some of the other stores with their equally-dazzling and alluring lights. “I’m getting more, but I can’t hold all of them, so I brought them to you.”</p><p>“That’s a sign for you to hold them,” Seoho says nonchalantly.</p><p>Geonhak glares down at the mat of blond hair resting on his shoulder. “What, why me?”</p><p>“Sungchan can’t hold them all, and I have a headache. The responsibility is all yours, darling.” He uses the word half-mockingly, but it only gets a little grumble out of Geonhak before he’s complying. Then again, Geonhak has never been the type to downright deny someone when they asked him for something, even if he feigned annoyance and put up a feeble fight. </p><p>… Which is what leads him to be the one to carry the bags full of ornaments and lights on their way out.</p><p>~~~</p><p>Getting the tree into the house after picking it up is a bit of a hustle, and clearly, Sungchan is the only one who’s excited about it. But that’s only because he’s not the one carrying a thick tree through the doorway. </p><p>With a bit of effort, and Geonhak trying to get in his way because <em> Hyung, Sungchan can take a bath later. Stop being so strict with him</em>, Seoho convinces Sungchan to take a warm bath to prevent him from catching a cold. Sungchan’s colds are always pretty bad, especially during this time of year, and Seoho doesn’t think he has the strength to put up with another one of his fevers. Thankfully, Sungchan isn’t as whiny as Geonhak is and obeys.</p><p>It’s ten minutes later when Geonhak is helping Sungchan dry his hair that Seoho takes all the decorations they purchased out of the bags and sets them down by the tree. Seeing them, Sungchan perks up and jumps off the couch, his hair only half-dry and his curls falling in front of his eyes, though it isn’t enough to hide his evident eagerness. </p><p>There is impatience in the way Sungchan tears the plastic boxes open, uncaring that he’s making a mess as he throws them to the side. He settles on the set of green and red ornaments first, and Seoho can tell he still isn’t the biggest fan of the gold and silver ornaments but refuses to admit it. </p><p>When Geonhak reaches for one of the ornaments to aid in putting them up, Sungchan lightly smacks his hand with a pout. “Daddy, I wanna hang them up first. Don’t touch them.” Recoiling slightly, Geonhak pouts and watches as Sungchan tiptoes to hang a single green ornament on the highest branch he can reach.</p><p>It makes Seoho laugh. He swears Sungchan’s habit of pouting came from Geonhak. </p><p>When Sungchan is halfway through the set, he grows tired and finally lets them help him in hanging ornaments on the branches he is incapable of reaching. While Geonhak and Seoho are left with the remaining green and red ornaments, Sungchan sits on the floor and decides that it’s time to open the second set of ornaments. He’s much more careful with opening the package this time, his energy having dulled down, and his initial thrill subsiding slightly. “Dad, do you think Santa will like our decorations this year?” </p><p>It’s Geonhak who answers him instead of Seoho. “Of course, honey. Santa always likes our decorations. We have our artistic expert with us, after all.”</p><p>“But what if he doesn’t like silver ornaments?”</p><p>“Santa adores you, so whatever you hang up, he will love it.”</p><p>“Really?” Sungchan’s eyes light up. He finally manages to pry the package open after struggling to peel the tape, and he picks up a gold ornament. “I wonder if I’ll get to meet him this year. I fell asleep last year and couldn’t see him.”</p><p>“Uh, well…” Geonhak glances at Seoho before scrambling to come up with an answer.</p><p>He takes too long, and Seoho beats him to it. “Well, honey, about that… Your dad and I actually have something to tell you.”</p><p>At that, Geonhak’s head snaps up from where he’s hanging an ornament, pupils trembling with mild panic as he realizes, <em> Oh, no, not again, hyung</em>. Every year, Seoho does this—trying to break the bad news to Sungchan, who has gotten a little too attached to the holiday and the "man in red" that brings him presents every year. And each time, Geonhak would try to stop him, saying that Sungchan’s happiness matters more, and they shouldn’t get in the way of his fun. </p><p>Geonhak’s wide eyes then melt into what is meant to be a warning glare, except it just makes Seoho giggle. Had they still been in their early years of university, maybe the glare would’ve been threatening, but now it’s nothing short of amusing. At most, it just makes Geonhak look like a pouty puppy. </p><p>Sungchan turns his head to his dad, eyes twinkling innocently as he awaits what his dad has to say. Seoho continues, “We wanted to tell you that—”</p><p>“Santa actually told us he has a big present for you,” Geonhak interrupts, throwing one last glare to Seoho before it fades into the soft eyes he always has for Sungchan—or kids in general. Sungchan’s head then snaps around to Geonhak instead. “It’s bigger than last year’s.”</p><p>“How do you know?” Sungchan asks.</p><p>“Well, that,” Geonhak crouches down until he’s eye level with Sungchan, and he affectionately pinches Sungchan’s cheek with the same warm twinkle in his eyes—the same soothing look that <em> still </em> has Seoho’s heart fluttering in the same way it always has ever since they were students. He averts his eyes and fidgets with an ornament when Geonhak grins. “That is <em>our</em> little secret.”</p><p>Hearing this, Seoho cocks an eyebrow at Geonhak and smirks while Sungchan squeals, bubbling with newfound excitement. “What is it, what is it, what is it?!”</p><p>Geonhak shrugs. “I don’t know, I can’t tell. But how about you go get ready for bed and maybe Santa will consider letting you know.”</p><p>Not a moment longer, Sungchan runs off to brush his teeth, clearly eager to sleep the rest of the night away and wake up one day closer to Christmas. Once the bathroom door closes behind Sungchan, Seoho comes up next to Geonhak and elbows his side. “Congrats, darling, I hope your wallet can handle that promise you just made because you’re not backing out.”</p><p>Geonhak huffs. “It’s not like I’m broke, hyung. I can afford to buy him a bigger present.”</p><p>“Mhm, and yet I recall a certain someone complaining about the pricing of last year’s gift. Care to explain that to me?”</p><p>With no comeback, Geonhak simply pinches the soft part of Seoho’s waist, causing him to yelp.</p><p>~~~</p><p>Seoho isn’t exactly sure when Sungchan’s little obsession with Santa started. He didn’t even know who Santa was when they’d first adopted him, and now, four years down the road, his obsession only seems to grow, making it much more difficult for Seoho to break the news to him. </p><p>Seoho very much likes to pin the blame on Geonhak, who probably planted the idea of Santa in their son’s head—since he <em>is</em> the one who always reads him bedtime stories to help him fall asleep and such. He’s also the one who holds him back every year from coming clean, which makes Seoho’s job harder.</p><p>Now, as Seoho gets out the ingredients to bake their chocolate chip cookies, he ponders how he should go about the news. Christmas Day is only a couple of days away, which gives him little time to say anything, and any more delays mean he’ll have to wait until next year—again.  </p><p>“Okay, I’m ready,” Sungchan exclaims as he comes running out of the bathroom with his hands in the arm to prevent them from touching any potentially-dirty surface. He’s the one who suggested they start baking their own cookies for Santa a couple of years back because he claimed that Santa “doesn’t like cookies that aren’t filled with love and hard work” (When Seoho had glared at Geonhak, waiting for an explanation, Geonhak had just shrugged and feigned interest in a comic that was sitting on the shelf of the store they were in). </p><p>Geonhak finally looks up from where he’d been rummaging through the cupboard for the chocolate chips, mumbling to himself about how he’d put them in there the last time they’d used them. He has a knack for putting something somewhere, only to find out later on that he’d misplaced them. But then again, Seoho wouldn’t be surprised if Sungchan sneakily ate them all. He likes to do that sometimes—eating the chocolate chips they leave in the cupboard when he thinks no one’s looking.</p><p>For once, Geonhak hasn’t misplaced them, and he finds them shoved near the back of the cupboard—courtesy of Seoho, who tried to hide them from Sungchan to prevent him from eating them all. </p><p>Seoho already creamed together the brown sugar, butter and white sugar beforehand, so he sets that on the counter while Geonhak drags a stool for Sungchan to sit on. “Did you wash your hands?” Geonhak questions, and Sungchan hums.</p><p>“I just washed my hands. See?” Sungchan holds up his clean hands for Geohak to inspect, only for him to pull them back when Geonhak reaches for them. “No, daddy, no touching. I don’t know if <em> your </em> hands are clean.”</p><p>Geonhak squawks, childishly offended, and he pinches the cartilage of Sungchan’s ear playfully. “Take that back. Take that back right now.” Sungchan whines, and frantic chants of, “Daddy, stop, let go,” are said. It’s when Seoho leans over to smack Geonhak’s arm that he finally lets go with a satisfied grin.</p><p>“What are you, twelve? Leave him alone,” Seoho says. Geonhak rolls his eyes because <em> Says you, hyung</em>, but Seoho ignores him in favour of handing Sungchan the eggs. “Here.”</p><p>Geonhak stands close with a hand in midair to help Sungchan with them in case he messes up, only for Sungchan to notice and push his hands away. “I can do it myself.” He's gentle in the way he says it, but it's still a command. He's always been pretty self-sufficient, refusing to let others help him unless he really needs it, though rarely does he admit that he requires assistance. Geonhak likes to say he got it from Seoho, though Seoho has no idea what Geonhak means by that.</p><p>Sungchan manages to successfully crack the eggs without making a mess, and they even give him the liberty of mixing it all together, though he complains a few minutes later that his arms hurt, so they pass the job onto Geonhak. </p><p>While Geonhak is busy, Seoho asks Sungchan, “Do you remember what comes after the eggs, honey?” For a minute, Sungchan sits in silence as he thinks, his lips pursed adorably. He pauses in his thinking to annoyedly brush his curly fringe out of his face before he resumes his thought process. At this sight, Seoho laughs and pulls out the vanilla extract. </p><p>Spotting it, Sungchan’s eyes light up with realization. “Oh, I always forget that.” </p><p>“It’s okay, honey. Wanna pour it in?” Sungchan holds out his small grabby hands and pours it into the batter with Seoho’s help, to which Geonhak complains that Sungchan let Seoho aid him, but didn’t let <em> him </em> help. To that, Seoho says, “Of course, I’m actually the helpful parent.”</p><p>Grumbling, Geonhak sneaks a hand behind Sungchan, reaching for Seoho until he pinches his husband’s side. It stings, and Seoho expresses this by squealing and rubbing his aching waist. He glares at Geonhak over Sungchan’s head, but Geonhak reverts to pretending nothing has happened. Sungchan hasn’t picked up on anything, too busy fiddling with the measuring spoons, so Seoho drops any thoughts of possible revenge and simply rubs his side with a pout.</p><p>It’s when they finish pouring in the cups of flour that they finally get to the chocolate chips and Sungchan claps his hands together. His hands are covered in flour, and the white powder flies everywhere when his hands collide, but he doesn’t pay it any mind, and neither does Geonhak, so Seoho decides that he shouldn’t either. </p><p>“Can I put more chocolate chips this time?” Sungchan asks. Seoho already knows he’ll do anything to add more chocolate chips in, and both his dads are too weak for him, but Seoho still applauds him for at least asking.</p><p>Geonhak, as always, is the one who answers first. “Of course, angel, you can add in as much as you like.”</p><p>“Geonhak,” Seoho says, his voice lowered warningly. He’s displeased that Geonhak constantly encourages Sungchan to eat unhealthily—because Geonhak often does that: Buying Sungchan ice cream before dinner without telling him, letting Sungchan get McDonald’s when there are leftovers at home in the fridge, or moments like now where he lets Sungchan have more chocolate than Seoho would allow. </p><p>But then Sungchan is turning his head to him and pouting while tugging at the hem of Seoho’s orange hoodie. “Please, dad? Can I put in more chocolate chips?” And really, how is Seoho supposed to deny him of anything when he looks at him like that? So, in the end, he reluctantly agrees, and he’s rewarded with a blinding smile before Sungchan is dumping cup after cup of chocolate chips into the batter.</p><p>Once again, Geonhak is left with the job of mixing in the chocolate chips while Sungchan watches, singing a Christmas song under his breath (Seoho thinks it’s Deck the Halls, but he hasn’t sung that song since he was in middle school, and his memory really isn’t cooperating today). </p><p>With Geonhak distracted, Seoho, once again, tries, “Hey, Sungchan-ah—”</p><p>But Seoho’s luck has never been on his side, and this is a fact because just as Seoho is about to get his words out, Geonhak interrupts by saying, “Okay, munchkin, let’s move to the table, and you can make your cookies however way you want them.”</p><p>Gleefully, Sungchan claps his hands and slips off the stool while Seoho sighs in defeat. “Can I make a Santa cookie?”</p><p>Geonhak grins. “Of course, darling. You can make whatever you wish.” When Geonhak turns to Seoho  and says, “Hey, baby, can you grab Sungchan the Santa cookie cutter?” Seoho does so begrudgingly, pouting at the fact that he missed yet another perfect opportunity to come clean. </p><p>~~~</p><p>Sungchan is off at Jinho’s house.</p><p>Geonhak had dropped him off yesterday after Jinho’s mother had called, saying Jinho wanted a sleepover with Sungchan before Christmas.</p><p>Now, Seoho is slipping on his shoes and grabbing his keys from the hook by the door after getting a call that Sungchan is ready to come home.</p><p>“You sure you don’t want me to pick him up?” Geonhak says warily from where he’s seated on the couch, watching Seoho struggle to pull his coat on. </p><p>Seoho’s headache had slowly made its reappearance that morning. Geonhak has been throwing him wary looks all day, asking him if he needs help with anything and that he should rest—to which Seoho would aggravatedly roll his eyes and say, “I’m fine. Stop fussing over me.”</p><p>Finally managing to tug his coat on, Seoho hums. “I’ll be fine. Maybe get started on dinner or something before his Highness comes home and asks for something to eat.” He says the last part as a joke, but Geonhak starts to shift in his spot on the couch before slipping off to head into the kitchen as commanded. “What, no ‘goodbye’ kiss for me?” Seoho jokingly says, and Geonhak stops in his tracks and playfully rolls his eyes before he saunters over to where Seoho is waiting by the front door.</p><p>Seoho hadn’t been serious, but he doesn’t complain when Geonhak wraps his arms around his waist and places a chaste kiss on his lips and then another one on his temple. “There, a kiss to help rid you of your headache.” Seoho has half a mind to tease him because <em> That’s not how it works, idiot</em>, but Geonhak has a pretty proud grin on his face, and Seoho isn’t one to ruin his fun—well he is, but maybe not today—so he lets him be. </p><p>The drive to Jinho’s house isn’t long. After all, their family only lives a couple of blocks down from Seoho and Geonhak’s house. </p><p>Sungchan is waiting outside while holding onto Jinho’s mother’s hand when he arrives to ensure he doesn’t run off on his own. Seoho’s grateful for that because Sungchan tends to dart off in different directions when no one is supervising him. He knows this all too well with how he’s nearly had multiple heart attacks whenever he lost Sungchan in a mall, only for Geonhak to fish him out of a random toy store.</p><p>As bad as Seoho feels for making them wait, he knows Jinho’s mother doesn’t mind. Seoho has seen how fond she is of children—much like Geonhak because they both hold the same soft gaze in their eyes whenever they’re around kids—and she never fails to assure Seoho that looking after the kids is no problem. </p><p>Really, Seoho could never with how easily he forms headaches. He doesn’t have the stamina to keep up with kids the same way Geonhak does, either.</p><p>His son perks up at the sight of the familiar car when it pulls into the house’s driveway. Wordlessly, he lets go of Jinho’s mother and runs up to the car, uncaring that Seoho still hasn’t fully parked it. When Seoho finally manages to park and get out, he welcomes Sungchan into his arms, who comes running and crashing into his chest.</p><p>Pulling away from his son, Seoho gives Sungchan an unimpressed look. “Sungchan, what have I said about running to the car when your dad still hasn’t parked?”</p><p>Sungchan shrugs, clearly unfazed that he’s being lightly scolded, and his grin proves it. “I was just excited to see you.”</p><p>Seoho playfully cocks an eyebrow. “Excited to see me? Wow, I’m honoured.” From his peripheral vision, he sees Jinho’s mother come up behind Sungchan, so he picks Sungchan up in his arms and faces her. “How was he? I hope he didn’t cause you too much trouble.”</p><p>Jinho’s mother laughs, bright and bubbly. “Of course not, they had tons of fun.”</p><p>“Did you?” Seoho says to Sungchan.</p><p>Wrapping his arms around Seoho’s neck, Sungchan hums delightfully. “Yeah! Jinho and I made a fort in the living room with his blankets and then we made s’mores outside, and then we watched Star Wars and had popcorn, and then we had a pillow fight.”</p><p>“Sounds like you two made a mess,” Seoho laughs. He takes the bag full of Sungchan’s clothes from Jinho’s mother and thanks her. “Well, honey, what do you say to Jinho’s mother?”</p><p>Lifting his head from where he’d buried it in Seoho’s shoulder, Sungchan says, “Thank you.”</p><p>“No problem, it’s always a delight to have Sungchan over. You’ve raised him well.”</p><p><em> Geonhak </em> raised him well, Seoho wants to say because he really doesn’t know what he’s done to help shape Sungchan’s personality—except give Sungchan his persistence and hard-headedness, though he could’ve gotten those from Geonhak, too. </p><p>In the end, he doesn’t comment on it and thanks Jinho’s mother again for having him before loading Sungchan’s bag in the backseat and helping Sungchan strap himself in. Jinho’s mother is still standing outside in her slippers and sweater as they pull out of the driveway, and she throws them a wave that Seoho returns out of politeness.</p><p>“Dad, I have more to tell you about the sleepover,” Sungchan says.</p><p>Seoho laughs and takes a peek at Sungchan through the rearview mirror. “Okay, darling, tell me once we get home so you can tell daddy, too. I'm sure he would love to hear about all the fun you had.” Sungchan, ever so obedient, listens and shifts impatiently in his spot.</p><p>When Seoho unlocks the door to their house, Sungchan barely manages to kick his shoes off before he’s running straight into Geonhak’s arms from where he’d just wandered out of the kitchen. “Daddy, I missed you.”</p><p>Seoho scoffs as he bends down to straighten Sungchan’s carelessly thrown shoes and place them on the shoe rack. “You said the same thing to me. Guess I’m not as special as I thought.”</p><p>“Oh, stop being dramatic,” Geonhak rolls his eyes before pecking Sungchan’s cheek. “Well, how was your sleepover?”</p><p>That’s Sungchan’s cue to begin rambling, and he squirms out of Geonhak’s hold before grabbing his hand and dragging him to the couch to start his mini storytime. Geonhak is more than happy to listen to every little detail, while Seoho makes his way into the kitchen to see what Geonhak has prepared so far. </p><p>It’s halfway through Sungchan’s storytime that he gasps so loud, Seoho flinches from where he’s chopping the last bit of potatoes.</p><p>He probably should’ve expected to see the snowfall outside and Sungchan with his face pressed up against the glass of the window. There’s no way he would’ve been that shocked for anything else. </p><p>Without peeling his eyes off the snow, Sungchan cries, “Look, dad! It’s snowing outside!” Seoho can’t see his face, but he just knows Sungchan’s eyes are twinkling in that way they always do whenever he’s delighted.</p><p>Today’s not the first snowfall—it’s been snowing for a while—but Sungchan is always fascinated nonetheless, finding joy in the tiniest things. </p><p>“You like snow that much?” Seoho grins, though the answer is quite obvious.</p><p>“Of course, it’s pretty,” Sungchan replies. “But the first snowfall is always the best.”</p><p>Geonhak sighs dramatically and laughs in faux pain. “Ah, the first snowfall. Remember when we were in college? I confessed to you on the day of the first snowfall—”</p><p>“Now, now, don't go rubbing salt onto an old wound.” It's the day Seoho had rejected him and run off cowardly, never having dealt with an actual confession before. Though they laugh about it now, he does feel slightly bad about it, and Geonhak sometimes likes to rub it in, just to get a reaction out of him.</p><p>“You were mean back then.”</p><p>“Are you implying that I’m not mean anymore?”</p><p>“No, you’re still mean, but clearly not enough if I chose to marry you.” At that, Seoho wrinkles his nose in feigned disgust and mumbles a quiet, “Gross,” under his breath that has Geonhak childishly shoving him.</p><p>Finally peeling his eyes off the snow outside, Sungchan turns to look at them with a pout. “Can I go play outside?”</p><p>Seoho slowly begins undoing the knot of the apron and pulls it off. He raises an eyebrow at Sungchan. “You just spent two days playing with your friend. Aren’t you tired?”</p><p>Sungchan shakes his head, already reaching for his jacket that he’d slung over the couch mere minutes ago. “No, I wanna go play! Can I, dad?” It’s not like Seoho could ever say no, so he agrees, but not before reminding him that he should stay in the driveway. “Will you play with me?”</p><p>Seoho shakes his head. “No, sorry, angel. I have dinner to cook.” He watches as Sungchan’s face falls, and his pout deepens. Feeling his chest clench, Seoho grabs Geonhak’s arm and shoves him in Sungchan’s direction. “But your daddy can. Right, Geonhak? You can go play with Sungchan.”</p><p>Geonhak whips around to glare at him. “What? Hyung, I have work to—”</p><p>“No, you don’t. Go play with Sungchan while I make dinner.” He receives another glare, but Geonhak is already to grab his jacket from the closet by the door, grumbling feeble complaints under his breath that Seoho knows he doesn’t mean. Besides, Sungchan is more than pleased that he has someone to play with, and Geonhak would never pass up an opportunity to spend time with their son, even if it means his work projects are shoved back into the middle of the night. </p><p>Seoho watches them stand by the door, Sungchan giddily pulling his winter coat back on with Geonhak’s help, and as Seoho heads back into the kitchen to resume his preparations for their dinner, he hears Sungchan whine. “Daddy, I don’t need a scarf. It’s not that cold out.”</p><p>Just before Seoho can shout a reply, he hears Geonhak say, “Sungchan, your dad will have my head on a stick if you don’t wear your scarf. Let’s keep us both out of trouble, yeah? Don’t want to be chased after with a broomstick.” Seoho snorts into the palm of his hand and bites down on his lip to keep from laughing. It’ll be best if he pretends he never heard that statement.</p><p>Though, he definitely won’t pass up an opportunity to torment Geonhak with it in the future.</p><p>~~~</p><p>When Seoho finally lets the rice in the rice cooker cook, he glances out the kitchen window to see Geonhak rolling a large ball of snow in the driveway, Sungchan making a small one next to him. The other end of the driveway has two abandoned snow angels, and it makes Seoho laugh as he catches all the snow clinging to the back of Geonhak’s sweatpants. </p><p>While Sungchan begins rolling a third snowball, one much smaller than the other two, Geonhak watches, crouched next to him with a fond smile. He looks ridiculous, Seoho thinks as he sees Geonhak pull a clump of snow out of Sungchan’s curls, his fond smile intact and his nose scrunching, paired with a laugh that has him throwing his head back at whatever Sungchan must be entertaining him with. <em> Ridiculously adorable. </em> Of course, Seoho rarely admits it out loud. If he did, he’d die of embarrassment before Geonhak could even think about poking fun at him and bruising his ego. </p><p>For someone who claimed he was busy and couldn’t play, Geonhak looks cheerful, face relieved of any stress and eyes soft as he sits on the cold snow and observes Sungchan, who places the snowballs on top of each other to make a snowman. <em> So much for having work to do</em>. </p><p>~~~</p><p>It’s Christmas Eve. </p><p>Which means Seoho is woken up to the sound of hurried steps, small bare feet pattering against the floorboards before the door to their bedroom is flung open. And lo and behold, Sungchan stands there with his teddy bear in his arms, his eyes wide and glimmering in a way that matches the bounce in his step and how he is somehow incapable of keeping his feet planted completely on the floor.</p><p>As much as Seoho is delighted to see their son happy—because really, he strives to bring joy into the lives of people he loves and cares about—he’s barely got one eye open and he’s buried far underneath their thick, cozy blanket that’s emitting <em> so </em> much warmth, and all he wants is to lull himself back into the sleep he just lost.</p><p>He was having a good dream, too, goddamnit. </p><p>In an attempt to drop hints that he just wants to sleep in, Seoho pulls the covers over his face and Geonhak’s exposed shoulder, burrowing closer until his forehead rests on Geonhak’s chest. Instinctively, Geonhak’s hand snakes around his waist and lands on the small of his back.</p><p>His warmth, and joy, and comfort, however, are all short-lived because the bed dips under Sungchan’s weight, and Seoho doesn’t even have time to mentally prepare himself before Sungchan’s shouting, “Wake up, it’s Christmas Eve!”</p><p>Under his breath, Geonhak grumbles, pressing his ear farther into his pillow in his fruitless attempt to muffle their son’s voice. </p><p>Seoho hears Sungchan whine, and he just knows he has his signature pouty face on while glaring disappointedly at both his parents who clearly treasure sleep over Christmas. “Daddy, it’s Christmas Eve! It’s time to get up!”</p><p>“Your son’s talking to you,” Geonhak mumbles.</p><p>“He’s talking to <em> you.</em>”</p><p>“Oh, so it’s always, “Don’t be a bad influence on <em> my </em> son, stop bothering <em> my </em> son, leave <em> my </em> son alone,” until it comes to losing precious sleep and suddenly he’s no longer your son, but mine?”</p><p>Seoho lazily grins against the thin material of Geonhak’s shirt. “Precisely.”</p><p>He hears incoherent grumbling, and then Geonhak flips onto his back, his hand no longer laying on Seoho’s back. Seoho, who’d finally gotten settled again, whines at the slightly lost heat. Normally, he’d be embarrassed to be complaining because rarely does he ever show that side of himself. But he’s currently cold and barely in touch with reality, so he simply shuffles closer until Geonhak gets the hint and closes the gap between them so Seoho can curl into his side.</p><p>Geonhak lightly tugs on Sungchan’s arm and pats the other side of him that isn’t occupied with blond hair tickling his chin. “Why don’t you join us in bed for a bit, okay? It’s still early…”</p><p>Sungchan, all too fidgety and springing on the tips of his toes, shoves Geonhak’s outstretched hand away and continues complaining. In the end, Geonhak, <em> bless his soul</em>, all too willing to please their son, finally pushes himself up with one last grumble and rolls out of bed, much to Sungchan’s delight. </p><p>Seoho, on the other hand, mourns the loss of his comfort and personal teddy bear. </p><p>Footsteps, some belonging to someone who’s quick and light on his feet and the other lethargic and dragged with much effort, fade as they leave the room. And Seoho is left alone. Left underneath the thick covers with the rays of the sun streaming through the blinds at just the right angle as to stay out of Seoho’s face, but still shine light upon the room. Left alone in a too-big bed that’s still warm from having been occupied not too long ago. </p><p>And easily, Seoho finds comfort again. For the third time that morning—</p><p>Until he hears something shatter in the kitchen, and his eyes fly open as the sound resonates in his ears tenfold. Many regrets. Many, many regrets when his eyes burn at the sudden change of light, and he winces, squeezing them shut before blinking them open to let them adjust. </p><p>There are those same hurried footsteps again, and then Sungchan is barging into the room and pouncing onto the bed—onto <em> Seoho— </em>while shaking his shoulder. “Daddy just broke something in the kitchen!”</p><p>
  <em> You don’t say.  </em>
</p><p>“I think you have to clean it, dad,” Sungchan adds.</p><p>Seoho definitely doesn’t like the sound of that. He burrows farther underneath the covers until only his hair pokes out, hoping that the blanket will serve as a barrier between him and reality, and his voice comes out muffled into the sheets. “Why can’t your daddy clean it up?”</p><p>“Uh,” Sungchan pauses for a moment before saying, “he just cut himself with a glass shard.”</p><p><em> Of course, he did</em>. Seoho would love to say he’s surprised, but really, he’s not. </p><p>He doesn’t know where he went wrong in life to deserve cleaning up the mess his husband caused. Not their son—his own husband. </p><p>Well, there goes all plans of staying in bed.</p><p>~~~</p><p>Night has fallen upon them and it’s dark outside save for the house across the street with all its Christmas lights dangling from the sides of their roof, the Christmas tree in their living room visible through their large window.</p><p>They always go all out for every holiday. </p><p>Sungchan is swinging his legs back and forth as he sits on the couch, feet barely grazing the floor as he stares at the Christmas tree they just lit up with lights. He’s unusually silent, which worries Seoho because normally, Sungchan would be buzzing with excitement right about now. Excited that he’ll soon fall asleep and wake up to presents underneath the Christmas tree, wrapped up in vivid green and red wrapping paper (that’s tucked into the very back of Seoho and Geonhak’s closet where Sungchan won’t find it). </p><p>The sound of plates gently clanging together fills Seoho’s ears as he stands by the entrance of the living room, Geonhak gathering the dirty dishes on the dining table behind him and tossing them in the sink as he hums a tune under his breath. </p><p>His eyes drifting down, they land on a clear glass shard that he must’ve missed while cleaning the vase that Geonhak had broken that morning—a vase that he’d paid <em> good money </em> for. </p><p>Sauntering farther into the living room and seating himself on the edge of the couch, he reaches out and gently pats Sungchan’s knee to get his attention. “Hey, sweetheart, you’re awfully silent today. What’s on your mind?”</p><p>The clashing of plates stops, and Geonhak wanders out after leaving the dishes in the sink for Seoho to wash later. He gazes questioningly at Seoho who simply shrugs in response. </p><p>Sungchan purses his lips, seemingly lost in thought before he lets out a deep sigh. Uh, oh. That doesn’t seem like a good sign. Growing concerned, Seoho scoots closer and squeezes Sungchan’s thigh. “Hey, what’s up? You were so excited this morning, what happened?”</p><p>Letting out another big sigh, Sungchan asks, “Is Santa real?” </p><p>What?</p><p>“What?” Seoho can’t help but stupidly mutter, and suddenly, the room’s temperature drops, or maybe that’s his blood running cold.</p><p>Seoho’s hesitant expression doesn’t please Sungchan, and he turns to Seoho with a sulky look. He repeats his question. “Is Santa real?”</p><p>“Now what arose this question?” Geonhak butts in. His tone has significantly changed, a lot softer around the edges than his everyday voice, that tone he uses when he’s prying in a way as to not arouse suspicion—otherwise known as the tone he uses with kids, especially their son.</p><p>Sungchan fiddles with his fingers, staring blankly, almost like he is trying to recall what brought on the question. “This boy in my class, he told me that Santa isn’t real, that I should stop believing in him.” He glances expectantly at Geonhak, and then at Seoho, waiting for them to deny it because they always have. </p><p>Seoho just gapes at him. “Oh, well—” <em> He’s not wrong, </em> Seoho doesn’t say. </p><p>At the lack of an immediate reply, Sungchan frowns. “He’s wrong… right? Santa’s real, or else I wouldn’t be getting all these presents every year, right?”</p><p>Before Seoho can get anything out, Geonhak swoops in and seats himself on the other side of Sungchan. “Of course, he’s real, angel. Why would you believe otherwise?”</p><p>Sungchan shrugs. “But I’ve never even met him, and I miss him every time,” he says dejectedly.</p><p>The room goes silent as Geonhak tries to think of what to say because how does one answer that? <em> You’ve never met him because he’s not real? </em> </p><p>Sighing, Geonhak cups Sungchan’s hands in both of his. “Well… even if your classmate doesn’t believe in him, do <em> you </em> believe in Santa?” It’s a question that already has an evident answer, so Sungchan nods. “Then that’s enough, isn’t it? He’s real as long as you believe it.”</p><p>Seoho purses his lips to contain a particularly loud snort because what kind of cheesy answer is <em> that</em>? Though Sungchan, ever so gullible and easily persuaded, believes it, lights up and lets his frown slip off his face. </p><p>But as relieved as Sungchan seems to be, deceiving him is the last thing Seoho has ever wanted, and seeing how easily convinced their son is, it has bile in the form of guilt tickling Seoho’s throat. Maybe they’ve strung Sungchan along for too long; maybe they let him get <em> too </em> attached. </p><p>It makes Seoho feel like a bad parent.</p><p>So, with bubbling rue being his only fuel, Seoho taps Sungchan’s knee and smiles tightly, ashamed. “Hey, baby, I actually have something to tell you.” It pains him when Sungchan faces him with overjoyed eyes, and his next words sit heavily on his tongue.</p><p>His hesitation doesn’t go unnoticed by Geonhak, who can predict what Seoho is about to say before he even gets his phrase out, sees it in the way his eyes are curved with remorse and shame because Seoho has always been unpredictable yet simultaneously predictable. Both ways an enigma and an open book. </p><p>“The truth is—”</p><p>“Sungchan,” Geonhak interrupts, throwing Seoho an unimpressed, icy glare before he lets it melt into a smile when Sungchan faces them, “Santa liked the cookies you gave him last year, but he said it wasn’t enough and asked if you could leave more out for him. So how about you run along and pile some more cookies on his plate before he shows up tonight.”</p><p>When Sungchan runs out of the room to the kitchen, Geonhak’s smile slips from his face and he mutters, “We need to talk later,” before he stands up and follows Sungchan when they hear complaints that he can’t reach the cookie jar.</p><p>~~~</p><p>The running water in the kitchen sink is the only audible sound in the house as Seoho scrubs the dishes clean and rinses them off. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows as he places another dish on the drying rack.</p><p>A door opens, and then closes shut, and Seoho hears footsteps. It’s Geonhak leaving Sungchan’s bedroom. He probably just tucked him into bed, read him another one of those bedtime stories he’s read multiple times to the point where he’s memorized nearly every line.</p><p>A part of Seoho believes Geonhak will just head to their bedroom and avoid him. After all, he is slightly disappointed at how Seoho continues to butt in every opportunity he gets.</p><p>So Seoho’s nothing short of stupified when he hears the footsteps approach the kitchen, and he only gets a second to process it before there are arms wrapping around his waist and Geonhak is setting his chin on his shoulder. Seoho barely manages to hide his grin as he continues scrubbing. “What’s up? I thought you were mad at me.”</p><p>“I am.”</p><p>Turning his head to meet Geonhak’s eyes at an awkward angle, Seoho cocks an eyebrow. “Then why are you being clingy?”</p><p>He hears Geonhak grumble more than he sees it. “What, can a man not seek affection while being upset?” Upon hearing that, Seoho is no longer able to contain his smile because it’s such a <em> Geonhak </em> thing to say—playing the role of the sulky puppy while continuously seeking affection in not-so-subtle ways. Seoho already knows he probably looks ridiculous, smile so wide his cheeks are already aching, so he hides it by flicking water into Geonhak’s face, much to the other’s displeasure. </p><p>He can hear the loud thoughts in Geonhak’s head as he debates on whether he should put up a childish fight or just let it be, but his decision is made clear when he simply sags again into Seoho’s back and nuzzles his shoulder. </p><p>The last of the dishes are placed on the drying rack, and Seoho grabs the towel and begins drying his hands. “Is Sungchan already asleep?”</p><p>Geonhak hums. “He just fell asleep. He made me read nearly every single Christmas book he has on his shelf, and <em> I </em> nearly fell asleep before he did. I even read those same books to him yesterday.”</p><p>“Hm, maybe we should buy him new Christmas books. He’s probably grown bored of the ones he has right now.”</p><p>Seoho feels Geonhak turn his head to glare at him. “Hyung, no. That just means more books for me to read.”</p><p>“I don’t see why that’s a problem.”</p><p>Geonhak gawks at him, and Seoho squeals when he feels him pinch his waist. “How about <em> you </em> try reading him bedtime stories for once?”</p><p>Solely for the sake of getting on Geonhak’s nerves, Seoho shrugs and shakes his head. “Sorry, no can do. If I’m in charge of washing the dishes, you’re in charge of storytime.”</p><p>“I hate you.”</p><p>He doesn’t mean it, Seoho knows that. It’s clear in the way he says it in a sulky tone that lacks any malice, and in the way he tightens the grip he has around Seoho’s waist and snuggles closer—as if there was any gap between them, to begin with. So, Seoho doesn’t think anything of it and just plants a kiss on the corner of Geonhak’s mouth. </p><p>It’s five minutes later of comfortable silence, standing in the kitchen and leaning against the counter, that Geonhak finally says they should probably sit down. And they do, with Seoho’s back facing Geonhak as Geonhak gives him a massage in an attempt to loosen the tension in his shoulders. </p><p>“Where? Here?” Geonhak presses his thumbs into the middle of Seoho’s shoulder blades, frowning when Seoho shakes his head.</p><p>“No, that’s not—Ow, yeah, it’s there.” </p><p>Seeing the way Seoho flinches, Geonhak sighs. “Don’t you think you’re working a little too hard? It’s okay to take breaks, you know.”</p><p>Seoho can’t exactly turn his head to look at Geonhak, so he lets his head hang as Geonhak puts consistent pressure onto his tense muscles. “It’s not that much work, <em> and </em> I take breaks. Besides, I’m off work for the next week.”</p><p>“Good, I better see you getting at least eight hours of sleep for the next week, or else I’ll knock you out myself.”</p><p>“You wouldn’t.”</p><p>“I would.” </p><p>Forgetting about the massage, Seoho twists his whole upper body to glare at Geonhak, who just grabs him by the shoulders and forces him to face forward again.</p><p>“Stop glaring at me and face forward.”</p><p>“You—“</p><p>“Face <em> forward</em>, hyung.” </p><p>Geonhak grins victoriously when Seoho just grumbles but complies, and a comfortable silence falls over them once more, the only words shared between them being a few muttered complaints when Geonhak presses down too hard. Other than that, neither of them make any attempts to break it because, really, they don’t need to. Seoho has always found immense comfort in the side of Geonhak that falls quiet, filling the room with his much-too-loud thoughts rather than his voice. And Seoho is always okay with that because he always feels at ease in Geonhak’s mere presence, enough to completely let himself go, knowing that he doesn’t always need to be alert when there’s someone he can easily fall back on. </p><p>After everyone he’s met, Seoho learned years ago that Geonhak was the only person who never once made him feel as if he needed to fill in the void with animated talking. At first, the realization scared him a little because he wasn’t used to being around people he wouldn’t have to exaggerate his actions for in order to come off as interesting, but that alone had been enough to pique his initial curiosity, which led to <em>this</em>.</p><p>But as much as Seoho loves dozing off to the silence and the soft fingers massaging his shoulders, he feels his heart grow heavy in the slightest, so he breaks it. “You know, we’re gonna have to tell him at some point. We can’t keep lying to him.” His voice comes out barely a murmur, yet it echoes in the otherwise silent room.</p><p>There’s no response from behind him for a while, and then Geonhak says, “There’s always a time and place for everything. We’ll tell him, one day, when the time is right. That time just isn’t now.”</p><p>“But what if—Ow, Geonhak you’re pressing too hard—”</p><p>“Oh, sorry—”</p><p>“What if he becomes angry with us because we’ve led him on for so long? What if his obsession doesn’t fade?” Seoho continues, dismissing Geonhak’s apology. </p><p>“He’ll lose his obsession one day, hyung. All kids do—it’s only a matter of time. We shouldn’t force him to grow up too quickly.”</p><p>Hearing that, Seoho lets out a heavy sigh. Deep down, he knows Geonhak’s right, that there’s really nothing he can do except let time guide them through it and only hope that everything turns out smoothly. Though, there’s also the highly likely chance that it won’t turn out smoothly because life is an unpredictable rollercoaster ride—having its ups and downs and dark tunnels. Seoho can’t help but overthink because what if it doesn’t go smoothly? What if their son grows furious with them for stringing him along for so long and—</p><p>“Hyung, you’re thinking really loud,” Geonhak comments with a tone of concern, and it’s only then that Seoho realizes that he’s gone extremely tense to the point where Geonhak stopped massaging, his fingers nervously wringing together in his lap.</p><p>Letting out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, Seoho looks over his shoulder with a sheepish grin. “Sorry.”</p><p>Shaking his head, Geonhak laughs. <em> Typical Lee Seoho</em>. For someone who comes off as carefree, Seoho has always been a bit of an overthinker for as long as they’ve known each other—whether it was about something highly important or even something as small as what he should eat for dinner. Geonhak just hasn’t learned how to stop him from doing it.</p><p>Seoho glances up with a questioning hum when the weight behind him on the couch disappears, and Geonhak straightens up, holding a hand out for him to take. His smile is bright, wide and playful as he doesn’t even wait for Seoho to take his hand and reaches out for him instead. </p><p>“Let’s get to bed. I can guarantee you we’ll be forced to start our morning early tomorrow.” </p><p>At that, Seoho giggles, knowing it’s true. He can already envision the muffled pattering of footsteps against the wooden floors before their bedroom door is flung open and Sungchan will most likely pounce on them in his blinding excitement. </p><p>Good thing Seoho sleeps on the side of the bed farthest from the door.</p><p>It’s when they’re already in bed that Seoho remembers, though. The bedroom is plunged in darkness, not even the white moon being enough to illuminate their confined space. Geonhak is snuggled up against his back, his face buried in Seoho’s hair as he absentmindedly nuzzles his shoulder and his ear. </p><p>“Hey, Geonhak, did you put the present under the Christmas tree?”</p><p>“... You have <em>got</em> to be kidding me.”</p><p>~~~</p><p>Their morning starts off exactly the way they’d predicted—with Sungchan barging into their room when the clock still has yet to hit 8:30, immediately jumping on the bed and half-landing on Geonhak, who simply groans and blindly tries to swat Sungchan away to get more sleep. </p><p>Of course, it doesn’t work and Geonhak is the first to leave the bed while Seoho is left to slowly come to and process his surroundings, stretching himself out until his limbs claim every corner of the bed and Geonhak has to pry him off from where he’s become one with the mattress.</p><p>When Seoho finally manages to look presentable—and by presentable, he means exchanging his pyjamas for sweatpants and fixing his hair so it isn’t tousled and flattened on one side—he wanders out of the living room to find that breakfast is already at the dining table, and Sungchan is sitting with his legs crossed atop the seat as he chews impatiently on his blueberry pancake.</p><p>It’s no doubt Geonhak forced Sungchan to eat before opening his present, considering the wrapped present underneath the tree is still intact, but Sungchan is fiddling with his pancake, half of his bite getting caught in his throat as he scrambles to shove it down with a glass of milk. Geonhak simply watches, slightly amused and also very unimpressed. </p><p>Right when Seoho finally seats himself down at the table next to Geonhak, Sungchan pushes his plate away and dashes to the Christmas tree with its lights that are barely visible in the morning light. </p><p>Wrapping paper is torn unceremoniously, and Seoho barely bites on his tongue to keep himself from complaining about the mess that Sungchan is making on the floor, but all is forgotten when Sungchan lets out a squeal loud enough to startle away the remaining sleep in Seoho’s system.</p><p>“No way did Santa get me this?!” </p><p>“He also ate all the cookies you baked,” Geonhak says, jutting his chin in the direction of the empty plate on the counter. “He liked that you added more chocolate chips to it.”</p><p>There’s a ton of unexplainable excitement swimming in Sungchan’s eyes, an excitement that he tries his best to contain. He’s always been modest, never one to let his contentment get out of hand, but Seoho can easily make out the way he tingles with the want to spring up and down.</p><p>“How did he even know what I wanted?”</p><p><em> It’s hard not to know when you bring it up at nearly every meal, </em> Seoho wants to say, but he doesn’t. Sungchan’s still giddy, and he’s reached the point where even words are no longer able to express his amusement and instead, it’s all scribbled in his features with vivid details. There are stars twinkling in his eyes as he rips open the remainder of the gift, and Seoho doesn’t want to be the mood killer—and not so early in the morning, either. </p><p>He could’ve butted in, but he sees the way Sungchan’s whole face lights up, brighter than the lights of the Christmas tree behind him. He sees how Sungchan, who’s normally a delightful ball of joy, grins wider than he would on a normal day as he holds his present in his hands. And Geonhak’s watching from where he’s forgotten about his breakfast, his lips curled up into a pleased smile even with a sobbing wallet.</p><p>And Seoho decides—maybe the truth can wait a few more years.</p><p>Maybe they’re deceiving him, maybe they're playing the roles of the villains in the little imaginary world he's created in his head, but Sungchan is <em> happy</em>, and Seoho would be damned if he were the one to ruin it. So maybe it’s okay that he’s oblivious to the truth as long as he’s content with where he is now. </p><p>Like Geonhak said, his time to know the truth will come.</p><p><br/>
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>at first, I thought about making geonhak the driver until I remembered that he has no license and that's illegal, but I hope you don't mind this mess of a fic, and if you leave comments and kudos, I will love you endlessly and send you lots of love letters and... yeah that's really all I can offer because I have no money :"D</p><p>also, my twt is @tinieseoho and yes I'm shamelessly asking you to follow me because I wanna talk to people</p></blockquote></div></div>
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